50 Rack Drabbles
by Iamepical
Summary: A bunch of Ronnie/Jack scenes I felt the need to write.
1. Fear of Falling

_**AN- Just random Ronnie/Jack drabbles based on songs, random words and fluffy little scenes I sometimes picture in my head. Rack are awesome, and it's bugging me how they keep arguing on Eastenders.**_

_**Well, I was listening to Believe and this song came on and I just felt like writing a fluffy little love scene between them. So here you go. I apologise in advance for the patheticness of it. Enjoy!**_

_**Fear of Falling- Katherine Jenkins**_

She is so used to having her heart broken, that she is afraid when he finally utters the three words she has been longing to hear.

"I love you, Ron," he reaches out to caress her cheek, his black eyes meeting her brown ones; eyes that are full of hope, happiness and a desire to fill the void he knows she has experienced throughout her life.

Perhaps her face, pale and cold, burning under his skin or perhaps her inability to respond gives it away, but suddenly he looks how she feels: troubled.

"I love you more than you will ever know" he repeats, willing her with his eyes to understand that he means it.

And just for a moment, she does understand. She knows what it must feel like to have a normal relationship.

And just for a moment she forgets she has a fear of falling.

"I love you too,"


	2. Think of Me

_**I was bored when I wrote this one. In case you were wondering, it's years into the future and Jack and Ronnie went their separate ways a long time ago.**_

_**Think of Me- Sarah Brightman**_

He sits on the sofa, arms entwined around his wife, Madeline. They are watching some American show that his wife insisted he would enjoy too. He wasn't paying attention; it was almost impossible.

"Hey, I'm going out now so, I'll like, be back later," his daughter flounced through the door. She had had the good sense to inherit her mother's good looks of long red hair and eyes which were a thousand shades of blue.

He loves his family, but for the briefest of moments, he finds himself thinking of Ronnie Mitchell for the first time in years as he catches his daughter's rosy, defiant glare.

And he wonders if she ever thinks of him too.


	3. Maybe This Time

_**Just a few of Ronnie's thoughts as she sits with Jack watching TV.**_

_**Maybe This Time- Lisa Minnelli**_

In life, there are quite simply those who are lucky and those who aren't. Ronnie Mitchell was one of the unlucky ones.

Tragedy seemed to stalk her, no matter how hard she tried to avoid it; it persistently followed her around like a predator that lulls its prey into a false sense of security then pounces when they least expect it.

Her love life was another matter entirely. Her relationship with Jack Branning was a disaster waiting to happen.

"Something wrong?" he asks, face marred in concern.

She shakes her head, blonde hair dancing.

"Good. I hate seeing you upset," he kisses her softly on the forehead as his gaze returns to the television.

But then again, she'd never met a man quite like Jack Branning before. Who knows, maybe this time she'd be one of life's winners.

_**I really, really dislike this one. I edited about a thousand times xD **_


	4. Caught in the Act

_**Haha, I remember when this happened in Eastenders and it just amused me so much I thought I should write something on it.**_

He grabs her arm, dragging her down so that she lands on top of him. Her fingers entwine in his hair, gentle and enticing as her mouth crashes against his. With a sense of frantic desperation, he tears at her blouse until the buttons come undone with a satisfying 'pop'.

"Wait, Jack, anyone could come in," she lifts her head, breathless, it taking all her will power not succumb to him here on the Vic floor.

"So let them," he growls huskily.

"I feel like a naughty school girl," she giggles, continuing to protest weakly as he fumbles with the zipper on her skirt. He silences her by pressing a hungry kiss to her lips.

Any resolve she felt has vanished, her hands over his helping him to remove their clothing.

Suddenly, they stop.

The lights turn on.

"Auntie Peg!" Ronnie gasps as her aunt's horrified face comes into view.

"Get your clothes now, then got out of my pub. The pair of you!"

They exchange looks, still tangled together; then the laughter begins.


	5. The Love Bug

_**Well, I really struggled writing this for some reason. I know Jack and Max aren't really very close, but for the sake of this drabble, just pretend they are. You probably won't because it's awful, but try and enjoy it!**_

Jack Branning is sat in his office chair at R&R where he is meant to be sorting out the monthly profits, but instead he finds himself engrossed in his own thoughts. Ronnie, Ronnie, Ronnie; she is all he ever seems to think about anymore.

"Christ, Jack! What has she done to you," he is so consumed in his own shamble of a mind, he hasn't noticed his brother edge into the room.

"How long have you been stood there?" he demands to know, avoiding the question.

Max ignores him, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Long enough. I never thought I'd see the day hardened ex-cop Jack Branning fell in love,"

Struggling with his words, he is rendered speechless for a moment, finally settling with a hasty, "Shut up,"

Jack Branning: ever the master of good comebacks.

Shrugging, Max turns to leave. "It's fine if you don't wanna talk about it, but it's obvious you've been bitten by the love bug,"

He tries his best to scowl at Max as he leaves, but on the inside Jack is glowing. This is the first time he's been able to admit to himself, but Max is right.

He was in love with Ronnie Mitchell.


	6. I Believe You

_**This is obviously based before Archie's killer was revealed.**_ _**Hope you like it. I promise the next one, to be posted tomorrow, will be a nice fluffy Rack moment.**_

Suspicious eyes bore into her as she makes her way across Albert Square. She closes her eyes, determined not to let the snide mutterings get to her, determined not to break down and sob in front of everyone.

They all think it is her; they all think she is capable of murdering her father. Even her own sister doesn't believe her when she denies it.

Increasing her pace, her face remains icy until she has passed through the crowd. Then she lets go; angry tears roll down her cheeks and a shiver seizes her body, but it is not because of the cold.

She doesn't know he is watching her until she looks up and catches him staring.

Their eyes meet, an electric spark passing between them as something ignites behind Jack's eyes.

She knows what it means.

_I know you didn't do it. I believe you._

And in that instant, what everyone else thinks doesn't seem to matter.


	7. Happy Birthday

"Come on, Jack! Tell me what it is?" she pleads, her cheeks flushing a pleasant shade of scarlet thanks to the red wine she has been drinking. "I can't wait any longer!"

He shakes his head, laughing as she lands a playful punch on his arm and at the comic sight of her folded arms and childish pout. It may be her birthday, but he still can't help having a little fun. There is nothing he enjoys more than taunting his girlfriend; she pretends to hate him for it, but he knows she loves the challenge.

"If I guess right, will you tell me?"

"Maybe,"

"Jewellery?"

"No,"

"Flowers?"

"No,"

"Oh, what about that perfume I kept hinting I wanted?"

"No,"

"Am I even close?"

"No,"

"Stop saying no," she scowls at him, making a pathetic attempt to conceal her laughter.

"No,"

This earns him another hit.

For a while, they continue in this manner with her guessing and him replying with a clearly stated no and the occasional slap from Ronnie, but suddenly she jumps up.

"I'm sick of this now! If you won't tell me, I'll search this apartment until I find my gift,"

She begins to head away, his laughter making her all the more determined to win.

"Oh, will you now?"

He catches her arm, standing so that he is staring into her eyes.

"Yes I-"

He cuts off her sentence, clamping his mouth firmly over hers as he gently pushes her to the ground. For moment forgetting her present, she responds hungrily, pressing her body close to his. When they finally come up for air she says,

"Get off me. You're trying to distract me- I'll never find me present this way," she says, trying to struggle out from underneath him.

"I think I've tortured you enough now. Here you go,"

He digs in his pocket, pulling out a cat key ring with a silver key attached.

"But- what is it?"

He rolls his eyes. "A lemon- what does it look like? It's a key of course. Will you move in with me, Veronica Mitchell?"

They stare at each other, a love burning between them, so strong it almost hurts.

After what feels like an anxious lifetime, she responds by placing a sweet kiss over his mouth.

"I thought you'd never ask. I love you," she whispers.

He grins, not remembering the last time he felt so happy.

"Happy birthday, Ron,"

_**A nice cheesy moment for you all. I am sorry they are so OOC! I know it's pretty awful, but please enjoy and review anyway.**_


	8. The Show Must Go On

She applies a coat of scarlet to her lips, trying out a seductive pout in the mirror. Her hair is in a loose ponytail which she removes, her blonde locks tumbling down her shoulders like a waterfall. She tousles them with her fingers, hoping to achieve that windswept look she knows Jack adores.

"Have you nearly done, Ron?" he calls from the living room, causing her to jump in surprise.

"Yeah, I'm coming," she yells.

For a moment she feels guilty. Jack loves her so much, she knows that, and she loves him too, but it can't be denied that she is using him. He isn't ready for a baby, but it is the only thing she wants from life.

Then she remembers Danielle and the first tiny cry she uttered as she completed her struggle to enter the world; she remembers the way she was torn from her arms, a happy gurgle issuing from her mouth, not understanding how many lives would be ruined because of that one moment. Finally, she remembers the way her small body shuddered in her arms as she took her final breath.

And just like that the guilt is gone, replaced with a longing that only a mother without a child could understand. She _needs _a baby, even convincing herself Jack would could around to the idea.

Picking up the pin, she carefully stabs the condom in her palm. Taking a deep breath, she leaves the bathroom and collapses into Jack's loving arms. The life they are living is nothing but a façade, but time is fast running out; she has to replace Danielle.

So the show must go on.

_**Obviously it's based around Ronnie's decision to go against Jack's wishes to wait to have a baby. It is pretty horrendously written. I don't expect positive reviews for this one, but flames are still welcome!**_


	9. The Swimming Pool

_**Thanks for your reviews so far, everyone! Much appreciated **____** I hope you enjoy this one. It's a nice cheesy little scene, and I though Ronnie deserved some revenge after Jack was so irritating in the birthday one!**_

He watches her emerge from the swimming pool, soaking the water from her hair. Her body, covered only by a red bikini, is sun-kissed and she seems to be emitting a radiant glow; Jack can't stop himself from staring. Sometimes he doesn't know how he has ended up with such a beautiful woman. She seems to sense his eyes on her, and she turns around and gives him one of those killer smiles of hers.

"Why won't you come in the pool?" she calls. "You can't just mope around in the shade all holiday,"

"I've told you. I have sensitive skin and I don't like getting my hair wet,"

She places her hands on her lips, her musical laughter at his expense making him smile. "I would never have expected you to be such a girl,"

Bending down, she flicks some water at him. He grimaces as the cool water makes contact with his skin; Jack can't remember where his aversion to water came from, but he hadn't been swimming since his youth.

"Come in! For me," she lowers her voice, raising her eye brows suggestively. "We don't even have to swim. Pools can have more that one use, you know,"

She shrugs when he shakes his head, flopping down onto her pink towel.

"Will you fetch me a drink?"

"Sure, what would you like, Ron?" he replies, relieved that she finally seems to have dropped the whole swimming thing.

"Fresh orange would be great please,"

He nods, too busy fantasising about tearing that bikini from Ronnie to notice the devilish smirk playing across her face. Suddenly, he feels soft hands pressing against his, and before he has a chance to react, he finds himself landing with a splash in the swimming pool.

Ronnie is standing at the edge, a triumphant smirk on her face, as he surfaces, spluttering slightly. She is laughing, and unable to resist, he grabs her leg and she stumbles into the swimming pool, landing in his arms.

"I swear you will to regret doing that, Miss Mitchell," he tells her as she wraps her arms around his neck, still giggling. "I'll get you back when you least expect it, but now I'm in here I guess I might as well enjoy myself,"

Then he covers her mouth in a kiss.


	10. Envy

_**I should probably have been doing my homework, but instead I decided to write this lol xD Obviously it's from Roxie's POV. I know she isn't that malicious sounding really, but I hate her so…xD Anyhow, enjoy!**_

They are sat in a secluded corner of the Queen Vic, hands interlocked with their eyes fixed avidly on each other. Colour creeps into her cheeks, a shy smile tugging at her lips as he leans forward to whisper something in her ear. Neither of them notices the envious pair of eyes staring at them; they are both too consumed in the delicate bubble of romantic bliss they have made for themselves.

Roxie feels sick, jealously flaring inside her like a tame cat turned savage. She can't bear the sight of them acting like a pair of lovesick puppies. For the first time in years, her sister looks truly happy, but Roxie still can't force away the shadows of contempt hidden behind her eyes. And she hates herself for it.

She should be happy too; thrilled to know that Ronnie finally has someone to care for her for a change. But she can't chase away the feeling that Jack should be hers. They do, after all, have a child together and he should be hers.

Happy, flirtatious laughter issues from where they are now rising. Jack's hand is resting on her shoulders and he tucks a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, looking at her in a way he has never looked at Roxie. Plastering a smile to her face, Roxie braces herself for whatever it is they are about to say.

"We're off now," Jack tells her. "Could you give Amy a goodnight kiss from me?"

"Of course. Have a nice night, you two,"

"We will," Ronnie beams, already heading for the door.

They leave then without another word.

If they'd have looked back, then maybe Ronnie would see the fear of forever being a single mother in her sister's eyes and maybe she would have offered some reassurances. If they'd have looked back then maybe Jack would see that it hurt the mother of his baby to see its father so completely in love with her own sister; maybe they'd both realised how wrong their relationship is.

But neither of them look back.

And Roxie carries on staring in envy.


	11. Here For You

_**Omg, I was listening to Meatloaf while I wrote this one. If you haven't already, listen to Bat Out Of Hell because it's such an epic song! Anyway, enjoy!!!!**_

It is raining; the crystal droplets are spiralling down and they settle on her hair, the swaggering black clouds aiming with malice at anyone stupid enough to come out in a storm.

She doesn't seem to notice; doesn't seem to care as the rain drenches her bare skin. She hasn't cared about anything since Danielle.

The downpour is a welcome distraction.

He approaches cautiously, not wanting to startle her. Save for an occasional shudder seizing hold of her shoulders, she makes no movement at all so that he can't be sure if she knows he is near her.

"Ron," he says gently, taking his place next to her on the bench. "You shouldn't be out here in the rain. You'll catch something,"

She flinches as his hand carefully brushes her cheek, afraid that the contact will drag her back into a reality she is not yet ready to explore now that Danielle is gone: dead.

"Here, let's share this. You don't have to speak. I'll just sit with you and make sure you're ok," he removes his coat, draping most of it around her wet shoulders as he draws her into the warmth of his body.

She lets him, for a moment forgetting everything as she melts into his affectionate arms.

"I want you to know that if you ever need someone to talk to, or just to yell and scream at, you can count on me. I don't care if it's the middle of the night, Ron, I'm here for you," he rubs her arms tenderly, cradling her head and smoothing her hair as she finally gives way to the numb feeling and let's in the grief.

Then she sobs into his chest while Jack simply holds her.


	12. A Bit of Fun

_**Sorry it's taking me so long to update! I've been busy with something else recently. I imagined this scene in my head and thought it would be amusing to write. I hope you enjoy it!**_

He prays Ronnie would hurry up and come to R&R soon. This is so typical of her; she turns up an hour before the club even opens at night, but as soon as there is a meeting that could mean a better future for R&R she decides to be late. He is going to kill her when she finally rolls in.

"Mr Branning, we really must get a move on. We have another meeting scheduled within the next hour," announces a balding man over his thick rimmed spectacles, an air of haughty importance lacing his voice. Jack hates men like him, but he has no choice but to be pleasant when he is their only chance of an investment.

"Sorry, my colleague will be here in a moment. She's been delayed,"

At that moment, Ronnie bursts through the door, windswept. His anger immediately evaporates; she grins cheekily at him, knowing her low-cut top and short black pencil skirt have knocked the breath from him.

Even the balding guy is rendered speechless, his mouth frozen in an o-shape.

"I'm sorry. I spilt a drink on my first outfit so I had to go back and change," seemingly oblivious to the eyes ogling her, she takes her seat next to Jack.

The investor seems to recover, snapping his jaw shut and smiling weakly at her. "It's fine Miss Mitchell. Now, if I chose to invest what is it you intend to do with the money?"

Jack starts to answer, choking on his words when he suddenly feels her soft hand rub against his thigh, enticing and maddeningly arousing as she moves it slowly up and down. Unable to control himself, his knee jumps and bangs against the table and sends several sheets of paper floating to the floor.

Christ, forget killing her; once this hell was over he would torture her.

"Something wrong?" he frowns at them like they are a pair of children.

"No…I just, uh, have a disorder where my leg has involuntary spasms," Jack lies, giving Ronnie a sharp nudge in the ribs as she fails to stifle her giggles.

He narrows his eyes before launching into a speech about the importance of making the right decisions with the money. Jack is trying his hardest to pay attention, but it impossible.

Ronnie's hand is still gently caressing his thigh, gradually making its way further up his leg. He desperately wants her to stop, but he can't force his hand to remove hers from his leg. Finally, she reaches the place where he has now gone hard, gently massaging him with playful fingers.

"Oh Jesus," he groans.

"Another disorder, Mr Branning?"The balding man asks, eye brow cocked in a knowing disgust.

Jack's face is on fire.

Fifteen torturous minutes later, he gets up to leave. Jack and Ronnie both rise with him.

"I'll forward you some extra details about our plan," Jack tells him as he heads for the exit.

"I don't think that will be necessary. Goodbye,"

"Christ, Ron!" he turns on her. "What's wrong with you? We're never going to get that money now,"

She smiles, shrugging. "I just though we should have a bit of fun,"

He opens his mouth to tell her exactly what he thinks of her idea of fun, but the words never make it out. She propels herself into his arms, placing a passionate kiss on his mouth. Jack instantly forgets the deal as he catches her. What did they need an interfering investor for anyway?

"I know you liked my outfit," she whispers in his ear, running a hand through his hair. "Don't you want to find out what's underneath?"

He replies with a hungry groan.

She pushes him and the pair of them stumble into his office for what promises to be one of the best hours of Jack Branning's life.


	13. 1000 Stars

_**I thought it was about time I included a nice cheesy moment, so I hope you all like it! Oh, by the way, it's Ronnie and Jack on a camping trip somewhere in the countryside.**_

They lay squashed next to each other, holding hands on the small confines of an old rug. Darkness settles around them, the dancing blackness oddly comforting against the eerie glow of the moon which glares upon earth with stony eyes. Everything is silent apart from the gentle rising and falling of his chest as he inhales the crisp night air. She presses an ear to his torso, listening to the peaceful orchestra of his internal mechanisms as he strokes her hair. His heart throbs steadily and she places her palm against it, needing proof that the moment is real; she never wants it to end.

"Look, Jack," she points up at the sky. "There's always one star that seems brighter than all the others. Have you noticed?"

They all emit a faint ethereal aura like thousands of sirens lost in a tumultuous sea of black. Both of them struggle to think of a more beautiful sight.

"That can be our star then," he says, brushing his lips across her temple.

Their star really is the brightest, burning intensely in its determination to outshine all the others. Ronnie prays its light will never face

Happy, she snuggles further in the pleasant warmth of his arms. They are both wearing contented smiles; after everything, all the struggles they have experienced in their relationship, they have finally reached perfection. To Ronnie it feels like heaven on earth.

"Jack, if you could, would you fetch me a star?" she asks suddenly, propping herself up on her elbow so she can see his eyes. It is only a stupid question, but for some reason she finds herself thinking the answer is important.

He reaches out and cups her chin in his hand. "For, I'd fetch 1000 stars,"


	14. Kill For Me

_**I thought it was time I included a few darker ones, so here you go. Enjoy!**_

How far would you be willing to go for the woman you love?

Would you give up everything to spend just one moment with her?

Would you follow her into the fiery depths of hell and back?

Would you lay down your own life to safe hers?

Jack Branning, in all honesty, couldn't answer any of these questions. And he hoped he would never have to.

But then Christmas came, and that's when everything changed.

_She lies perfectly still on the hospital bed, drowning under the ghostly hospital gown that has been provided. Vacant eyes stare without really seeing and there is not even a quiver of moment so that she looks like one of those grotesque porcelain dolls, slowly loosing colour until she fades to nothing._

_Everything in the room is dead; the pallid white walls loom with menace and a lifeless TV sits long broken in the far corner. Even the clock has stopped, its hand eternally stuck at 4.34. Ronnie is just another of the room's victims that it slowly drains the life from._

_Afraid, he moves closer to her and takes her hand in his._

_No response._

"_Do you want something to eat?" he asks, willing her to say something, anything._

_No response._

"_Roxie will be worried. Do you want me to get her to come over?"_

_Nothing; a deafening silence._

_He resigns himself, knowing that she will only talk if she wants to. But it doesn't matter; he will wait as long as it takes._

"_He killed my children," she says finally, her voice monotonous and devoid of any colour. "My babies are dead because of him,"_

_There are no tears left to shed for her and Jack realises that now. She has been left with a gulf in her heart that is as wide as an ocean and can never be filled again. There is no point in crying when it won't change a thing._

"_I know, Ron, I know. It will be ok," he whispers, smoothing her hair away from her face._

"_I want him dead," she looks at him for the first time and Jack can feel her eyes burn into his core._

_He isn't shocked by the blunt words that leave a biting resonance in their wake. If it was him on that hospital bed, he would want the man who was responsible for the death of his child dead too._

"_I want him dead," she repeats, the words echoing eerily. "Kill him for me, Jack. Please,"_

_A wide eyed desperation takes over and she grips onto his arm, nails carving moons in his skin. Slowly, a trickle of blood trickles down his arm. He has never seen her look so wild or troubled, and his heart breaks for her._

_There are a thousand excuses he could have made from prison, his daughter Penny to the fact that she might live to regret it. But he tells her none of these things. There can only be one answer._

It was that Christmas in the clinical space in the hospital room that Jack Branning learnt the answer to all of those questions. Yes, he would give up everything for Ronnie and yes, he would follow her to hell. He would sacrifice his own life without one seconds thought to save her, and, if push came to shove, he would sacrifice anyone else's if it meant she would be happy.

Is it really murder if you are doing it for love?

Is it really murder if you are killing to give back someone else's life?

Does it really Matter?

Jack didn't think so when he plunged the knife deep into Archie Mitchell's chest and watched the blood pour out in a ghastly shade of red.

The only thing he thought of as Archie lay writhing on the floor in pain was her tortured face.

That night, Jack found out he would do anything for the woman he loved.

_**Gosh, it took me ages to get this right and it still turned out rubbish xD Obviously it is set when Ronnie looses her baby thanks to that git Archie.**_


	15. Damaged

_**Sorry- I know it has been ages. I have no excuse other than laziness lol! Anyway, I really detest Roxie. And also omg, Chelsea and Jack?!?!? Seriously? Anyway, here's a scene I imagined after the whole damaged incident.**_

Damaged.

The word is constantly lurking within the shadows of her mind, always waiting to strike her down when she is feeling even the remotest bit of happiness. She tries to force it away, but it is a near impossible feat. Even since that day they sat together on the Queen Vic sofa she has thought of nothing but the cruel way the word formed on his lips as he spat it bitterly at her. Ronnie has tried to fool herself that he didn't mean it, that is was just a brutal term uttered in the heat of the moment, but she can't lie to herself anymore. He meant it; he meant it to hurt her.

She can feel the devastated chasm in her heart where it feels as if part of her has been ripped away. The last person she could rely on, often brooding and taciturn but nevertheless always someone who had been there for no matter what, was lost to her now. Jack thinks what Roxie has been telling her for months.

And he is right.

They say the truth hurts, and Ronnie has never realised how true that statement is before now. She _is _damaged. What whole person would even suggest that something good could possibly come of the death of a young man?

Oddly, she doesn't cry. The tears just won't fall. Perhaps it is because she has already cried enough tears to fill an ocean over the last year or maybe she has simply stopped caring what people think. If Jack doesn't love her then nothing matters anymore. Instead, she tucks her legs tightly against her chest with all the vulnerability of a child and stares into the darkness, eyes shadowed with agony as she reaches for the vodka bottle.

She knows it shouldn't come to this, that drink shouldn't have to be the answer. But still she grips the bottle as if it is her only salvation and, with pale shaking hands, she pours herself a glass and raises it to her lips; the cool liquid trickles down her throat, burning and soothing, not yet enough to relieve her of her grief. Some people drink because they can't control it; some people drink because they like the feeling of ecstasy some people simply drink in moderation with their friends.

Ronnie Mitchell drinks to forget.

She looks at the phone and desperately wills it to ring before turning her attention to the doorbell from which she longs to hear the shrill call alerting her that someone is here. The only thing she truly wants, needs, is to hear Jack's voice telling her that he didn't mean it. She finds herself wondering in vain if Jack too is thinking of her.

But the phone doesn't ring.

And the doorbell doesn't chime.

Ronnie is already on her next glass of vodka; damaged is one word that will haunt her until death.


	16. One Million Miles Away

**Yo, guys! I have an excuse for the delay this time. I've been stuck in Majorca, but it gave me the chance to write quite a lot! So yeah, I guess this is set shortly after Danielle died. I wrote it after listening to One Million Miles Away by Rhianna. Oh- I've started something longer which goes on for like 20 chapters, so look out for it!**

"Ronnie, are you awake?" his voice shatters the night. A crisp breeze snakes its way through the open window, gently coiling around his care chest until a shiver is extracted. He pulls his half of the quilt up to his neck, nestling into its warmth as he waits for her to reply.

"Ron-"

"I'm still awake," she cuts across him, her voice as cool as the icy night. He waits in a pregnant silence for her to continue, but she doesn't. And the truth is that Jack never expected her to. Ronnie hasn't slept since Danielle died; he watches her every night as she lies there in a foetal position with the covers tucked tightly around her as a physical barrier from the world while she stares unblinkingly into the oppressive darkness. He wonders if she is watching the stars, if she is transporting herself to distant galaxies and loosing herself in dreams of the daughter which might be waiting for her there.

"Are you thinking about Danielle," he asks her.

Again, she doesn't reply, but Jack can feel her tremor at the sound of her dead child's name.

"Let me in, Ron. I can't help you if you don't talk to me," he urges her, desperate to ease some of her pain. If he could switch places with her and make it so he was the one who couldn't cope with the grief, he would do it in an instant. Softly, as if he is afraid she might break, he runs his hand down her arm. Her skin is deathly cold under his, bone white against the glow of the moon. But she doesn't seem to care. Her Ronnie's half of the covers are simply discarded in an unceremonious heap at the foot of the bed. Their fingers touch for a second and he tries to convey all his words of comfort in that fleeting moment, but she snatches her hand away. Jack flinches, burnt by her rejection.

"I love you," she whispers, her voice hoarse, thick with emotion. Jack can tell she has been crying, diamond tears silent in the dark. "But I need time. I can't talk about her. I don't think I can ever talk about her. I'm sorry,"

He makes a hushing noise, longing to pull her into his arms and let her sob for as long as she needs. But he knows she isn't ready yet and that it will only make things worse. She probably will never talk to him about Danielle, but now he understands why; Ronnie can't find the words to tell him the hole her daughter's death has blasted into her heart. No mother should ever have to loose her child; the pain will never leave her. Even so, her silence, the refusal to let him see her exposed and vulnerable hurts him all the same.

Jack reaches out to touch her hair, but she moves even further towards the edge of the bed. Ronnie is right next to him, millimetres from his arm, but at the moment she might as well be a million miles away.


	17. Lifeline

**This is how it should be between Ronnie and Jack after the whole getting shot in the head and being paralysed thing. Omg, how amazing was last night's Eastenders btw. It was so cute when Ronnie told him she wants to marry him :3**

She is his lifeline; without fail she remains vigilant at his bedside every day, her presence as steady and unwavering as his heart beat. He has come to rely on those stolen hours where she sits and just tells him about the club, about Amy, about her childhood. Her voice is tender, cleansing, animated, and it is the only thing that prevents him being driven to insanity while he is forced to remain in the hospital bed. Ronnie is the only thing that came make him forget; make him forget that his life will never be the same again.

He has yelled at her until his voice is hoarse, but she has always refused to leave, a fierce determination alight in her eyes as she shouts back with a glare that he withers under. She is the only person who tells him how it is, tells him how pathetic he is behaving in pushing away everyone who cares. He will never admit it to her, but it is yet another thing Ronnie is right about. He is lucky to be alive.

She is here now, gentle, tentative with his good hand entwined firmly with hers as she sorts out his pillow. Jack thinks she looks oddly ethereal against the surgical glow of the hospital light, with her blonde hair falling forward as she laughs while telling him about the stupid games she and Roxie would play when they were children. All the time she is smoothing back the hair from his forehead and the thought occurs to Jack that she would have made a great mother. Why did he have to go and mess things up before? Because of him, they had wasted so much time.

He loves Ronnie; loves her so much that it aches. She has been his only light in the darkness this past week and Jack is astounded that it has taken having a bullet rip through his head to make him see what has been right in front of him all along.


	18. Perfect

**A very random moment I imagined. I hope you enjoy it! What do you want next? Fluffy, depressing, humorous (or my very best attempt at being humorous? Let me know! And enjoy this one =D**

He walks into the room to find her nursing their week old child. Her hair billows in front of her face, a tender smile that he has never seen before tugging at the corner of her lips. Red rims underline her eyes, evidence of the sleepless night where Emma hasn't stopped sobbing. She clutches her close to her chest and carefully presses their babies' small palm against her heart, the bond love between mother and child already unconditional, unbreakable. Jack is still uncertain how to react, astounded at the overwhelming responsibility he holds over another's life, but Ronnie is already a natural. He will learn to be a father, but Ronnie has been a mother for a long time.

She gently brushes back her mop of dark hair; Emma stares up at her, fascinated by the locket around her mother's neck. Ronnie starts to sing a song that he has heard her sing thousands of times in the shower when she thinks Jack isn't listening. Lovingly, slowly, she rocks back and forth until Emma's tiny eyelids begin to flutter, determined but not able to fight sleep. Jack finds himself rendered breathless, momentarily frozen with the significance of the moment; it hits him for the first time that he has a baby with the woman he loves.

"Hey Ron, is there any-"

"Shh!" she whispers, shooting him a half furious half adoring look. "I've only just got her to sleep,"

He nods, slipping his arm around her neck. They both watch as Emma sleeps with her fists clenched in tight balls, her chest rising and falling in a peaceful repose. Jack wishes that he had a camera so that he could capture the affectionate moment and freeze it in time. It is perfect.


	19. Domestic God

**Hello! Thought I'd give a flirty/cheesy scene because it's been a while. Please enjoy it ;) Just to warn you I can't update these too often at the moment because I'm busy revising for my GSCE's.**

She pushes the door open to find an empty apartment. Her hair is windswept, plastered to her cheeks from the sweltering sun that burns at its summit in the sky outside. A rosy flush lingers on her cheeks, caught under the glare of the sun.

They have only been living together a few weeks but she already knows he is not home; Ronnie is accustomed to his habits even after a short period of time. She knows that if Jack was back from work then he would have Boy zone blaring from the radio as he prepares something to eat. Unlike her whose feeble attempts at cooking have always ended in disaster with food splattered across the ceiling, Jack is a brilliant cook.

She walks across to the sofa, suddenly noticing how it isn't central to the television and instead skewered off to one side. Frustrated, she tries to stop herself from thinking about it, knowing that it will only drive her insane. She thinks of her old flat with the furniture designed to perfection: minimal and meticulous. Jack's flat is anything but those things, bursting with colour and piles of fussy ornaments and paintings scattered about the main room.

Ronnie has to admit that she hates how it is decorated, but she wouldn't change it for the world; it reminds her that she is now living with the man she hopes to spend the rest of her life with. She supposes she will just have to grow used to that fact that Jack doesn't have everything symmetrical. Or maybe, she thinks with a devious smile, she will just move everything slightly each day so he didn't notice the gradual changes…

A loud clatter from the bathroom distracts her trail of thought on how she could change the apartment.

"Jack?" she says, startled, running to the bathroom; he jumps, apparently also shocked to find himself not alone. "I didn't think you were home,"

"Yeah, I came home early so I could sort a few things out and cook us a nice meal for tonight," he steps forward and gives her a gentle kiss on the lips in a welcome home.

She smiles, stroking his cheek. "You don't have to cook every night you know. I'd be quite happy with…"

She stops, gazing at a space behind him with an odd look on her face. He edges sideways trying to block her view, hands knotted in front of him like a naughty school boy.

"What have you been doing?" she asks incredulously, noticing the pile of cleaning equipment stacked up by the sink and for the first time that he is wearing rubber gloves.

"Cleaning the toilet," he replies defensively.

She bursts out laughing; it was only the other day she discovered a collection of skin moisturisers in the cupboard. Never before has been out with a man who bothers to clean his own toilet.

"Well there's no one else to do it! Unless you're volunteering for the job?" he pauses, an alarmed look spreading across his face. "Wait, what are you doing?"

"Texting all the men in my contact list to let them know that my boyfriend is turning into a woman," she laughs, already scrolling through her phone.

"Don't do that! Ronnie, give me the phone," he leaps forward and grabs her from behind when she turns to run. Ronnie can't stop laughing as Jack continues to attempt to grapple the phone from her for several minutes; Jack can't help himself, he starts to laugh too at how ludicrous the situation is.

The atmosphere changes in an instant. She turns to face him like a flower would to face the sun. Her body is warm and alive against his. She knots her hands in his hair, loving the way it feels. Theirs breathes mingle, their eyes meet and the smiles evaporate.

"You never told me you were a domestic God," she murmurs as his hands begin to fumble with her buttons.

"I'm sorry. Just don't tell anyone," he says while covering her neck in sweet kisses.

"I won't. You're _my _domestic God," her voice is husky and all his nerves light on fire as she rubs closer to him. "Come on," she grabs his hand, leading him to their bedroom.

He follows, eager and willing, a puppy that is eager to please.

"Oh, one more thing Jack," she turns around to smile at him cheekily, winking. "Leave your rubber gloves on,"


	20. Have You Ever

**I got the idea for this one while playing spin the bottle at school lol. Only at school there was no vodka or wine :P Enjoy and review. Cheers!**

They are on his sofa tangled in a mess of limbs. Her cheek is pressed against his chest and all his nerves are on fire as he tousles her hair. The television is a blur of colours and sound, but neither of them even know what channel it is on; they have both been lost in another more demanding activity, lost in each other.

She groans, burying her head in chest. "I came here to wind down and instead I'm even more worn out than before,"

He grins, shifting from beneath her and bending down to grab his shirt. Shuddering slightly at the cool fabric, he shakes it around his arms "You enjoyed it though,"

She smiles back, also retrieving her clothes that are scattered at various points around the living room. "I can't deny that,"

"I'll go and get some more wine," he announces "Then after that we should probably get some sleep,"

Both of them know that the hour is late after having not left the club until gone 1.00 and neither of them want to think about the time now or how many hours sleep they will have before another busy day at the club; if they are being truthful, neither of them really care. Time never seems wasted so long as they are with each other.

"I don't think that's a good idea," she says eyeing the glass bottles littering the table, almost reproachful. "We've already had three bottles of vodka between us already,"

"Four if you count the one at R&R," he adds, vaguely remembering digging around under his desk until it had materialized. "Ok, so no more wine. Why don't we play a game?"

It is the kind of suggestion Jack would normally make, but the circumstances aren't normal when he has alcohol pumping through his blood.

"What sort of game do you have in mind?" interested, she drags herself into a sitting position and watches him with her elbows resting on her knees.

He thinks for a moment, finding it extremely to conjure up any game at all when Ronnie looks so unbearably beautiful with her blouse still half open and her hair messy, stuck out at odd angles but strangely alluring in the heat of the moment.

"Have you ever?"

She giggles, a vodka induced flush prettily brightening her cheeks. "And here was me thinking I was 34 and not 14," She reaches forward and shakes one of the discarded bottles. "But don't you need drink to play that? You better get us some more, Jack,"

He grins, as pleased as Ronnie at the excuse to drink some more.

"You're a bad influence on me, you are," he gives her a playful but lingering kiss on the lips before heading into his kitchen and returning seconds later with a bottle of crimson.

"Ooooh, wine," she gushes. "Very nice,"

"I only save it for my very favourite house guests," he says with a cheeky wink that makes her smile.

"Let's play then," she pats the space next to her and he complies gladly, squashing his leg as close as possible against hers while he pours them both a glass of wine; the liquid glints under the glare of the night light and a drunken Jack can't help but imagine that the wine seems angry at him for taking more than he probably should.

"I'll ask the first question," she tells him, her voice light, teasing. "Hmm…Have you ever cried at a movie?"

Ronnie raises her glass, closing her eyes when the cool liquid drips down her throat with a satisfying sensation. Jack, however, remains still.

"You've never cried at a film?" she demands to know, astounded. "Even Titanic?"

"Not ever Titanic. Why would I cry at something that isn't real?" he smiles softly at her comical expression of horror, brushing away a strand of hair from her eyes as he does so.

"You must have no heart," she comments.

"If I didn't have a heart I would be able to…" his voice fades away and he prays fervently Ronnie hasn't noticed. He had been about to tell her he loved her, but he almost doesn't dare, knowing that he won't be able to face the rejection that is sure to follow. How could someone as amazing as Ronnie love him back? Clearing his throat, he says "It's my question,"

"Go on then," her voice hasn't changed, is the same, and shows no sign that anything has just changed between them.

He asks it before he can stop himself, before he looses the surge of courage.

"Have you ever been in love,"

Time seems to stop.

She stares at him, her face revealing nothing.

Then he raises his glass, pressing it to his lips as Ronnie continues to watch him. It takes a lifetime before she lifts her glass to her mouth too, her eyes twinkling happily over its brim.

The moment becomes awkward with too much pressure to say the right thing which would probably still be wrong. Jack makes to move, begins to fasten his shirt, but Ronnie catches his hands in hers and pulls them back down. Her skin is warm, soft, and Jack once again feels all the breath knocked from him, marvelling that at the slightest touch from Ronnie he looses control of all his senses.

"How drunk are you?" she asks, her voice lowered to a husky whisper.

"Drunk enough to know that I won't remember any of this in the morning, but sober enough to know I mean every word I'm about to say. I love you, Ronnie. You're the first thing I think of every morning and the last before I close my eyes at night,"

She smiles, love lighting up every feature on her face. "The perfect amount of drunk then," she pauses, leaning closer until their foreheads are touching. He can smell her perfume, is intoxicated by the delightful lavender scent on her neck and he cups her face in his hands.

"I love you too. You mean everything to me,"

**I hope it wasn't too OOC with the gushy part at the end. As Jack isn't that great with his feelings, I thought he would be more likely to say those thinks after a good drink!**


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